Sword of Storms
by Wyvern's Elucidated Brethren
Summary: Five centuries ago he had been the Boy Who Lived. Now he is ageless, immortal, a god. But he is not happy. And his actions could cause the destruction of the world...(slash)


Wyv: This story was (yet again) loosely inspired by a collection of David Gemmell books I have been reading and, since the idea just would not leave me alone and followed me everywhere, I decided to give it a go.   
Lan: With a little help from me :) But not Bel, who is currently in hospital with a broken leg, concussion and a bruised ego after falling off his moped...fool! :) A sort of AU fic, five hundred years into the future. Contains slash, people, so be warned.   
Wyv: It's also going to be darker than our other fics, so be warned... R just to be safe.  
  
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns everything HP. David Gemmell owns the Sipstrassi. We own... nothing, actually.  
  
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The Isle of Stones was a beautiful place, rolling hills, green pastures, lush, dense forests and golden, sandy beaches along the edges. The weather was perfectly in harmony - cold, snowy winters, hot, sultry summers, mild and rainy autumn and spring. It was paradise.   
  
But for one man there could be no paradise.   
  
Five centuries ago, he had been the Boy Who Lived and the Man Who Conquered, finally defeating the evil Lord Voldemort in a long and bloody battle, with high casualties. Before the battle, he had been happy. He had found love - in a bizarre twist that love had come from the arms of his arch-rival, who had turned spy for the good side. They had won the battle, in the end. But Voldemort, in a final act of cruelty, had killed Draco Malfoy, thus ending Harry's chance of happiness.   
  
From that day on Harry had been determined never to lose anyone he loved ever again. Too many people had been taken from him - his parents, Dean, Neville, Remus, and now Draco. In the years that followed, Harry had travelled the world and studied the ancient scrolls, seeking to understand the old magic of the land. Five years later, he had succeeded, invented a golden, magical stone called Sipstrassi and built the Isle of Stones. There were now millions of these Stones on the Isle, and everyone who lived there owned a stack of them, as they were not inexhaustible. The Sipstrassi were enormously powerful and could regenerate and rejuvenate, keeping a man young long after his bones should have turned to dust. Harry offered all of his close friends and family the chance of immortality and they lived here on the Isle, for the most part happy.   
  
That was all five hundred years ago, yet the pain of losing Draco was still as fresh as it ever had been. While his friends were off playing gods on other worlds that they'd discovered, he would sit in his study, reading the ancient scrolls, seeking to understand...   
  
...Trying to find a way to bring Draco back to him. For the Sipstrassi, for all their powers, had no way of bringing the dead back to life.  
  
There was a knock at the door and Sirius stuck his head in.   
"Harry? You ok?"   
"Yeah," replied Harry, moving away from the window and sitting back down at his desk. "Just thinking."   
"About Draco?"   
"About what might have been." Sirius moved next to his godson, arms encircling his shoulders, hugging him tight.   
"Harry, I know it's not easy losing a loved one. I lost everyone, all of my closest friends, but it's time to move on. You've been brooding about Draco for the last five hundred years."   
"I can't help it, Sirius. I love him. Besides," added Harry, getting up and moving to his bookcase, "these old scrolls have given me more than enough to think about over the centuries. I've discovered some writings that would appear to be from Atlantis. Apparently, that was quite near here. I'm going to lead an expedition to find the ruins. They could teach us so much!"   
"What is it you're actually after, Harry?"   
"I'm after knowledge, Sirius," replied Harry softly, gazing into the fire.   
"Yes, but all this quest for knowledge must be boring!" declared Sirius. "You need some fun. Seamus has discovered a new world through the gateway and he's going to play Robin Hood."   
"Seamus playing Robin Hood? But he doesn't even know how to hold a bow!" Harry giggled. "This I have to see!"   
  
Half an hour later they arrived at the circle of standing stones that served as the gateway between their world and a host of others. There was quite a crowd gathering round already, all laughing their heads off. The crowd parted to let Harry through and he stood beside Ron. The space in between two of the stones was covered in a swirling white mist, and that mist was replaying pictures of Seamus' adventures.   
  
"He looks good in green tights, doesn't he?" asked Hermione, flashing Harry a grin.   
"He looks bloody ridiculous!" said Harry, laughing, as he watched Seamus stand up in a misty forest and give a speech to a group of outlaws, who were looking mildly puzzled as they tried to translate his strong Irish accent.   
  
"Hang on," said Donna Wood, Oliver's daughter. "There's something in those trees."   
"Probably a bunch of nobles looking to get their riches back?" suggested Sirius, looking delighted. "That would be quite amusing, then we could see if Seamus is any good with a bow, or if he hides behind the nearest tree and lets everyone else do the fighting."   
"No, Donna's right," said Harry, frowning. "There is something moving in those trees... and it doesn't look like a bunch of nobles." A feral howling filled the scene, causing most around the circle to shiver. In the picture, Seamus whipped around, fumbling with his bow and arrow.   
"The sharp end points away from you, Seamus!" called Fred. Laughter rippled around the crowd, and the tension eased a little.   
  
Then something burst out of the trees, a creature unlike any other. It was colossal, covered in shaggy brown fur, with demonic red eyes, a flat, hairless face and a cruel mouth shaped like an inverted V, filled with thin, razor-sharp teeth. A lot of people in the watching crowd screamed. So did most of the outlaws, who turned and ran, leaving Seamus alone, facing the creature. Seamus loosed two arrows at the beast. They struck it high in the chest, but it brushed them aside and advanced on Seamus. He swore and raced to a circle surrounded by small stones. He fumbled in his outfit for his Sipstrassi - and the creature reached him, fastening it's cruel jaws on his leg. He screamed, spoke two Words of Power, and he and the beast materialised back on the Isle. A number of spells hit the creature, but they were almost ineffective, and it advanced on Seamus again - and stopped. It screamed, sounding almost human, and began writhing in agony. All of a sudden it keeled over, dead, the flesh stripping away, leaving nothing more than a skeleton. Within seconds, even that had turned to dust and blew away on the breeze.   
  
A number of people ran to aid Seamus, who was still screaming in agony. Ron turned to Harry, who had gone deathly white and was staring at the space where the demon had been moments before.   
  
"What the hell was that, Harry?" Ron demanded.   
"I've read about this. It was a Demon of the Mist."   
"But what does that mean?"   
"It means the gateways of Hell have been opened again." 


End file.
